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A DINNER 

TO 

C H AR L E S D I C K E N S 

1841 

^ 1 ' ' I IR^I H .i }(^ 



REPORT OF THE DICKENS DINNER 
J U N E 2 5, 1 S 4 1 



REPORT OF THE PUBLIC DINNER 

" GIVEN TO CHARLES DICKENS 

AT THE WATERLOO ROOMS 

EDINBURGH ON FRIDAY 

JUNE 25, 1841 



PRIVATELY 

PRINTED 

]915 







COPT J! I OR T . 19 15 , BY TEE TOUCH PEE SS 
ALL PI GETS KESERVED 

P U P. L I S Jl K 1> , N O T E 3/ />' EB, 191 f, 









TO 

MRS. KATE PERUGINI 

DAUGHTER OF 

CHARLES DICKENS 

AND 

PRESIDENT 

OP 

THE DICKENS FELLOWSHIP 



ING CouRANT, printed June 26tli, the day after 
the dinner. If it ivas the Scotsman which Dick- 
ens sent Forster, he was justified in his opinion 
that ''the report is dismal in the extreme/^ That 
of the E^T.NIXG Coueant, while better, still up- 
holds Dickens's opinion of the two papers, given 
to Jerdan, that ''the reporting is dismal". 

The search, however, disclosed a third report 
printed, four days after the affair, in the Edin- 
burgh Advertiser, Tuesday, June 29th, which is 
very much better, as well as more extended than 
in the other two papers. It is believed by the 
writer, that ardent Dickensians will agree with 
him, that this report of the happenings of a day, 
irhich certaiidy was a red letter day to the young 
author, should be preserved in a more accessible 
form, than in the musty files of a newspaper over 
seventy years old. This is the excuse, if any is 
required, for reprinting the Advertiser's report. 

Forster, in Jus biography, says regarding the 
dinner, "This was his first practical experience 
of the honors his fame had won for him, and it 
found him as eager to receive as all irere eager to 
give.'' 

In connection ivith the report of the dinner, it 
is interesting to read some extracts from a letter 
which Dickens wrote Forster two days before it 
occurred, in which he gives, as Forster reynarks, 
some "pleasant sketches of some of those who 
took a leading part in the celebration, whose once 
famous and famUiar figures are not so u^ell 
knoivn to the present generation." 

The renowned Peter Robertson is a large. 



X 



portly, full faced man with a merry eye, and a 
queer way of looking under his spectacles which 
is characteristic and pleasant. He seems a very 
warm hearted earnest man, too, and I felt quite 
at home with him forthtvith. Walking up and 
doivn the hall of the courts of latv (which was 
full of advocates, writers to the signet, clerks and 
idlers), tvas a tall, hurley handsome man of eight- 
and fifty, with a gait like O'ConnelVs, the bluest 
eyes you can iynagine, and long hair — longer 
than mine — falling down in a tvild tvay under 
the broad brim of his hat. He had on a surtout 
coat, a blue cliecked shirt; the collar standing up, 
and kept in place with a wisp of black handker- 
chief; no waistcoat; and a large pocket handker- 
chief thrust into his breast, which was all broad 
and open. At his heels followed a wiry, sharp- 
eyed, shaggy devil of a terrier, dogging his steps 
as he tvent slashing up and doivn, now with one 
man beside him, noiv with another, and now quite 
alone, but always at a fast, rolling pace, with his 
head in the air, and his eyes as wide open as he 
cotdd get them. I guessed it was Wilson, and it 
was. A bright, clear complexioned, mountain 
looking fellow, he looks as though he had just 
come dotvn from the Highlands, and had never in 
his life taken a pen in his hand. But he has had 
an attack of paralysis in his right arm, within 
this month. He ivinced when I shook hands with 
him; and once or ttvice ivhen tve were tvalking up 
and down, slipped as if he had stumbled on a 
piece of orange peel. He is a great fellow to look 
at, and talk to; and if you could divert your mind, 
of the actual Scott, is just the figure you would 
put in his place . . . I am glad to find that 
they propose giving me for a toast on Friday, the 
memory of Wilkie. I shoidd have liked it better 
than anything, if I could have made my choice. 

xi 



Communicate all particulars to Mac. I would to 
God you were both herCy etc., etc. 

As shown by this letter, Dickens had never met 
Professor IVilson C'Christopher North'') till 
the occurrence which he descrihes to Forster. 
The first meeting of two such literary lights as 
''Bos'' and ''Christopher North" was considered 
in Edinburgh of such importance that a Scotch 
artist drew a caricature picture of the event, 
which was published in that city shortly after the 
dinner. This ivas the first caricature of "Bos" 
ever published, and it must have been almost as 
great an event to him as was his first public 
dinner. 

While Dickens regarded the accounts of the 
dinner in both the Courant and Scotsman as dis- 
mal, the preliminary remarks of the report in the 
OoiTRAXT regarding Dickens' dual qualifications 
as tvriter and speaker are so flattering to the sub- 
ject, that they are also deemed worthy of preserv- 
ing, even if that paper's entire account of the 
dinner is not, and they are also reprinted, folloiv- 
ing the Adm^rtiser'vS report. 

William Glide Wilkins 



Xll 



ILLUSTRATIONS 

. Frontispiece v 
facing page 2 y 



Boz's Introduction 

(From lithograph by Nichol) 

John Wilson 

(The chairman) 

Waterloo Place in 1841 

(Showing location of Waterloo Booms) 

The Croupier 

(Patrick Kobertson, Esq.) 

Charles Dickens 

(From a drawing by Count tl'Orsay) 

Waterloo Rooms . 

(Where the dinner took place) 



facing page 15 
facing page 23 
facing page 35 
facing page 55 



[From the Edinburgh Advertiser, Tuesday, June 29, 1841] 



PUBLIC DINNER TO C. DICKENS, ESQ. 

On Friday, upwards of 250 gentlemen sat down 
to dinner in the Great Waterloo Room, at six 
o'clock, Professor Wilson in the chair. Upon 
the platform we observed Professor Wilson, who 
entered with the distinguished guest on his arm, 
and was supported on the right by the honoured 
guest. Sir G. Warrender, Bart., Sir Wm. Hamil- 
ton, Bart., Sir Charles Bell, Professor Alison, 
Professors Christianson, Traill and Syrne, Alex. 
Blackwood, Esq., Charles Neaves, Esq., Dr. D. D. 
M. Moir (Delta), and on the left by the Lord 
Provost, Hon. Bouverie Primrose, Sir Edward 
Lees, Captain Archd. Sinclair, R. N., Mr. Sheriff 
Cay, Wm. Drysdale, Esq. of Pittenchar, Major 
Irton, Hon. Mr. Kerr, Angus Fletcher, Esq., of 
Dunaus. 

In the body of the hall Mr. P. Robertson occu- 
pied the Croupier's chair, supported right and 
left by the Hon. Horace Walpole, George Wil- 
liamson Ramsey, Esq., of Lixmount, Adam An- 
derson, Esq., advocate, W. H. Murray, Esq., 
Theatre Royal, John Inglis, Esq., Advocate, Dr. 
Neill, Councillor Newton, Adam Black, Esq., 
Robert Blackwood, Esq., J. R. Gordon, Esq., ad- 
vocate, R. W. Hamilton, Esq., D. D. Hill, Esq., 
William Tait, Esq., Mark Sprot, Esq., of Garn- 



DINNER TO CHARLES DICKENS 

kirk, Wm. M. Cranfurd, Esq., of Cartsburn, 
John Duncan, Esq., surgeon, William Copland, 
Esq., of Collision, Wm. Drysdale, Esq., of Pitten- 
char, F. Roland, Esq., D. Buchanan, Esq., Alex- 
ander Sinclair, Esq., Horatio McCuUoch, Esq., 
Major Nairn, Alex. Goodsir, Esq., Professor 
Blackie, Bailie Richardson, etc. 

An instrmnental band, conducted by Mr. R. B. 
Stewart, performed appropriate and popular 
airs throughout the evenings with admirable ef- 
fect. 

The cloth having been removed, a number of 
ladies entered the galleries, and were received by 
the company standing and testifying their ap- 
plause. 

The Chairman gave "The Queen" — three 
times three. "Prince Albert" — three times 
three and cheers. "The Princess Royal" — 
three times three and one cheer more, from Cap- 
tain Sinclair. "The Queen Dowager" and the 
rest of the Royal Family" was received with 
three times three and one cheer more. "The 
Navy and Army" — three times three. Rule 
Britannia, and British Grenadiers. 

Major Irton, returned thanks, and rejoiced to 
assure ever}^ one present, that none more highly 
than the United Services appreciated the literary 
character of the distinguished guest. 

Professor Wilson, who, on coming forward, 
was received with long-continued cheering, said : 




The Chairman 

{Editor of Blackwood's Magazine) 



DINNER TO CHARLES DICKENS 

In rising to propose the health of our distin- 
guished — our ilhistrious guest — (cheers) — I 
may remark that, as a people, we are distin- 
guished for our nationality — we are supposed 
to be proud — indeed we are supposed sometimes 
to be too proud of the national characters — to 
be too proud of the achievements which native 
genius has wrought. But I would remark that 
nothing great or good can ever be expected to be 
produced in any land of whi(^h the natives do not 
rejoice that they were born there — who do not 
(consider their clune and their country as the best 
of all climes and countries under the sun — who 
are not attached to the customs and habits of 
their country — who do not reverence the mem- 
ory of their forefathers, and who do not trust in 
Providence that their bones may be laid in their 
native soil (great cheerings). But Avhile I hes- 
itate not to express those sentiments, I am sure 
that I may with perfect trust declare that the 
whole heart of Scotland beats with love and ad- 
miration for the character of England (cheers). 
I know that in our ears, it sounds as the most 
majestic and magnificent of names, which we re- 
joice at all times to welcome, as we do to identify 
ourselves with her great men, whether statesmen, 
philosophers, poets or warriors, or whether we 
are delighted when on visiting our country, they 
bring before us the consummate courtesy and pol- 
ish of their manners — that cousununate cour- 
tesy, elegance and grace which belongs more 
peculiarly to them, and makes them as it were the 
very chosen people of the earth (cheers). It is 
to do honor to a son of that illustrious land that 
we are now met together (renewed cheers) . This 



DINNER TO CHARLES DICKENS 

is no ordinary assemblage — no mere confrater- 
nity of literary men or authors, who are proud to 
honour one that has outstript them all in the race 
(great cheering). This meeting is composed of 
men of different professional pursuits, of differ- 
ent characters, of different degrees and kinds of 
mental cultivation and moral culture, but who 
are all agreed in admiration of genius, and cap- 
able of sympathising with the victory that his 
genius has given him, and with the pure and noble 
sentiments which it has immortalized (continued 
cheers). I shall not presume to say, or to lay 
claim or arrogate to ourselves, the character of 
being, as it were, the representatives of our coun- 
try's opinions and sentiments regarding our dis- 
tinguished guest, but I do not hesitate to say, that 
wherever he may show himself in over what we 
somewhat practicall}^ call broad Scotland, there 
will be a feeling of enthusiasm towards him in 
all ranks. They will hold him as one of those 
original geniuses Avho has struck out a new path 
for himself, and introduced a beauty and lustre 
over many parts esteemed before to be barren 
and desolate, and over which no flower of genius 
could be supposed to blow (great applause). 
And allow me to say, there is something not in- 
appropriate in the time at which Ave are now met, 
at this time the whole of the country is justly and 
rightly agitated, astir and active with political 
sentiments. I said justly and rightly, for every 
man who loves his country as he ought to do will 
stand up for its cause, whatever may be his pecu- 
liar opinions, inspired by a genuine patriotism, 
and desiring nothing shall be done save for his 
country's good — (cheers) — in the midst of 



DINNER TO CHARLES DICKENS 

such feelings as are now rapidly about to spread 
all over the country — is it not delightful that we 
should hold for a certain season (cheers) — a 
sort of truce in which we can speak of subjects 
that are of everlasting interest — in which we 
can speak of sentunents and feelings which shall 
blend themselves in the heart and bosom of the 
patriot, and without which he does not deserve 
the name of a lover of his country, for he knows 
not the power of the genius and soul concentrated 
in the understandings of her gifted sons (cheers). 
Yes, gentlemen, I will say that the love of liberty 
and the love of literature are kindred and cog- 
nate — I will say that the spirit of literature is a 
free, bold and independent spirit — I will say 
that this spirit is sacred to liberty, for it spurns 
from it everything that is low, mean and vicious, 
all servility and all sycophancy (cheers). The 
man of genius stands erect, and is not ashamed 
to show his face anywhere — he is not ashamed 
to show his face, whether in multitudes who may 
s;y^npathize with him to the very top of his bent, 
or in multitudes who, by their frowns, desire to 
spurn him from them. No, his bosom is filled 
with noble and independent thoughts that bid de- 
fiance to all such passing things, for he who pros- 
ecutes literature as it ought to be prosecuted — 
he to whom heaven has given the gift of genius, 
feels his soul free at all times, rejoices in his 
might, and rejoices to unfold his wings, whether 
in the sunshine or in the storm, and ardently de- 
sires that the whole human race should enjoy that 
liberty which is the birth right of all, and by the 
power of which he himself works all those mir- 
acles which delight and astonish mankind (loud 



DINNER TO CHARLES DICKENS 

cheers). It would indeed be presumptuous and 
altogether unnecessary in nie, were I to attempt 
to draw anything like a character or picture of 
the endowment with which our distinguished 
guest is mentally gifted. I shall merely say this, 
which you all know, that he is perhaps the most 
popular writer now alive (long continued cheer- 
ing) in popularity, at least, he is second to no 
man of this age (renewed cheering). Now, in 
regard to popularity, there are some who pretend 
even to despise it; perhaps, if their opinions 
could be narrowly looked into, and their owra 
characters strictly scanned, it would be found 
that they despised it chiefly on the ground that it 
was something placed ver}^ far beyond their own 
reach and which, nevertheless, they are incessant- 
ly hankering after (hear, hear and cheers) . You 
are still all well aware that there have been al- 
ways men of transcendant genius w^ho have not 
been popular. It is easy to believe, for it is dif- 
ficult to believe otherwise, that great philosophers 
have not been duly estimated during their own 
life time — it is easy to imagine that some of the 
greatest poets were not i)opular during their life- 
time, from the nature of the subjects chosen by 
them — they desired and required a fit audience, 
and finding it not, they were driven to trust to an 
accmiuilation of ages for an audience beyond the 
tomb. It is undeniable, too, that there are vari- 
ous kinds of beauty which are not immediately 
apparent. The popular sense which require long- 
years of cultivation to open up the popular mind 
to the perception of such beauty, and you can eas- 
ily imagine much beauty of a high order, which, 
perhaps, will never be appreciated by all, for it 

8 



DINNER TO CHARLES DICKENS 

would scarcely be true to say, that Milton's Para- 
dise Lost, or the sublime poems of Dante, are, or 
ever will be, what is termed popular. But is that 
any reason for us to look down with scorn on 
those productions of genius which are truly pop- 
ular, and popular on just and right grounds, be- 
cause they appeal to feelings implanted in human 
nature, and find a universal response returned all 
over the land (loud cheers). It is certainly not 
necessary, in the first place, before an individual 
can be popular, that he shall sympathize tenderly 
and deeply with his f elloAv men in whatever con- 
dition, situation, or sphere the^y may be placed? 
Is it not necessary that he should prefer the pecu- 
liar and instinctive sense of mankind to his own 
peculiar feelings? and that while he does not 
sacrifice his own feelings to theirs, but catches 
fresh light and nature from them, in the assur- 
ance that as "one touch of nature makes the 
whole world kin" so a hundred touches from the 
same source will spread his fame over the land, 
and shed a lustre that will not die around his 
grave. What man of genius in his heart despises 
popularity ? No one who has acquired it — gain- 
ing, perhaps, without desiring it, but must be 
proud of receiving it, for he then knows that he 
has not written in vain; he takes the praise of 
living men as an earnest of the praise that shall 
be bestowed on hun in future years ; and he re- 
joices in his popularity, though perhaps in mo- 
ments of sadness and despondency he may esti- 
mate it low. It is not inconsistent or mean to 
strive for the possession of that which has been 
gained by the highest minds in arts, in arms, in 
philosophy ; nor can it be paltry to seek for pos- 

9 



DINNER TO CHARLES DICKENS 

session of that which, when got is never de- 
spised — Avhich men hug in their hearts while 
living, and of which they are not unwilling that 
some hint should be inscribed on their graves 
(loud cheers) . We all know, that if we look back 
either to the history of literature or to the history 
of mankind, we do meet with instances where 
great popularity has been achieved with, as we 
are disposed to believe, very inadequate powers, 
and, therefore, A'ery unworthily bestowed. Still 
there had been some power and, ]3erhaps, some 
little genius possessed and the possessor had 
availed hinielf of some favourable circumstances 
in the tone and structure of society of the pe- 
riod — he had endeavored to profit by some of 
those popular gales which were breathing at the 
time, but the more effectually he profited, the 
more clearly did he show that he had some sail to 
carry, and that his bark had been rigged and was 
still sea-worthy, had some power of floatage that 
distinguished him above other men. But, in this 
case, how, I ask you, has our friend 's popularity 
been attained? I say how has it been attained? 
It has l)een attained, in the first plai-e, during an 
age more prolific of great men in poetry, and in 
all the various walks of fiction than any other 
which ever illustrated the annals of this country. 
(Hear). He had formidable competitors and 
rivals, not only amongst those now living, but 
amongst those who have lived for a century back ; 
and when we look and consider that it is the mind 
of those people he has appealed to, who are not 
surely ignorant of the immortal efforts of Defoe, 
Richardson, Fielding and Smollett — that it was 
the same nation who have been obliged to admire 

10 



DINNER TO CHARLES DICKENS 

the maguiticent creations of Scott, and the crea- 
tions of man}^ female writers who have, in those 
particular departments of literature shone con- 
spicuous — I say when we think of these things, 
and all at once find a man who, as far as I under- 
stand, had no external aids to trust to, and a man 
not pandering to the corrupt tastes of any party 
or class attaining mich a popularity (great cheer- 
ing), to what, I ask, can the popularity of such a 
man be attributed l)ut to that insight — that al- 
most divine insight into the working of human 
nature — its passions and affections, to that com- 
prehensive soul and tender heart which sym- 
pathises with all the griefs, sorrows, raptures, 
joys and agonies of his fellow men (cheers). 
Yes, gentlemen — ladies and gentlemen — Yes 
(cheers and laughter) , his fame has been achieved 
by powers which are expressed in one word, the 
greatest of all words, when applied to an author, 
originality (loud cheers). Without originality, 
no man has ever gained a very splendid reputa- 
tion — it is true that some men with delicacy of 
sentiment and with ardent and conscious sensibil- 
ity, and with a truthful eye and a feeling heart — 
with these qualities some men had gained consid- 
erable reputation; but still, when a man strikes 
(jut a path for himself, or strikes out on some 
path which if trodden at all by men's feet, has 
l)een trodden by the vulgar — it may be the 
vicious or the wicked — when such a path has 
been struck out and assiduously and successfully 
followed, there falls upon that man the mantle of 
original genius, of a power which is felt to be 
great and universal — which speaks to the 
learned and to the unlearned — to the wise and 

11 



DINNER TO CHARLES DICKENS 

to the foolish — to those whose minds are culti- 
vated in all their powers, and to those who are 
Avithout an}^ mental cultivation at all, but who, 
nevertheless, possess the mental development by 
which they are made sensible of something with- 
in them, the existence of which they had not be- 
fore noticed, until the sudden revelations of 
genius made them familiar with things with 
which they had been conversant all their life, but 
of which they had suspected not the power, nor 
the grandeur, nor the pathos. Like all those men 
whose names I have mentioned, our friend has 
dealt with the common feelings and passions of 
ordinary men, in the common and ordinary 
paths of life. He has not sought — at least he 
has not yet sought — to deal with those thoughts 
and passions that are made conspicuous from 
afar, by the elevated stations of those who ex- 
perience them. He has mingled in the common 
walks of life — lie has made himself familiar 
Avith the lower orders of society. He has not 
been deterred by the asj^ect of vice and wicked- 
ness, and misery and guilt, from seeking a spirit 
of good in things evil, but has endeavoured by 
the might of genius to transmute wdiat w^as base 
into what was precious as the beaten gold (loud 
cheers). In what is genius made so manifest as 
in detecting in the ordinary occurrences of life — 
in discovering, in the uninviting and flat surface 
of society, themes which, when touched by a pen- 
cil of light, are read and studied by those who 
knew not before the witchery of the faded cheek, 
the solitary sigh, and the glistening tear, among 
the squalid filth and dregs of life. But I shall 
be betrayed if I go on much longer — which it 

12 




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DINNER TO CHARLES DICKENS 

would be improper for me to do — into some- 
thing like a critical delineation of the genius of 
our illustrious guest. I shall not do so, but I 
cannot but express, in a few and ineffectual 
words, that delight which every hmnan bosom 
feels in the benign spirit which pervades all his 
creations. How kind and good a man he is, I 
need not say, nor what strength of genius he has 
acquired b,y that profound sym})athy with his 
fellow creatures, whether in prosperity and hap- 
piness, or overAvhelmed with unfortunate circum- 
stances, Init who do not yet sink under their 
miseries, but trust to their own strength of en- 
durance, to that principle of truth, and honour, 
and integrity, which is no stranger to the uncul- 
tivated bosom, which is found in the lowest 
abodes in as great strength as in the halls of 
nobles and the palaces of kings (great applause). 
Mr. Dickens is also a satirist. He satirizes hu- 
man life ; but he does not satirize it to degrade it. 
He does not wish to pull down what is high, into 
the neighborhood of what is low. He does not 
seek to represent all virtues as a hollow thing in 
which no confidenc^e can be placed. He satirizes 
only the selfish, and the hard-hearted, and the 
cruel; he exposes, in a hideous light, that prin- 
ciple which, when acted upon, gi^'es a power to 
men in the low^est grades to carry on a more ter- 
rific tyranny than if placed upon thrones (great 
applause) . I shall not say — for I do not feel — 
that our distinguished guest has done full and 
entire justice to one subject — that he has entire- 
ly succeeded where I have no doubt he would be 
most anxious to succeed, in a full and complete 
delineation of the female characters. Who has ? 

15 



DINNER TO CHARLES DICKENS 

I suppose that with the single exception of 
Shakspeare, it is felt that in ahnost every delin- 
eation of female virtue and goodness, there is 
always something inadequate ; something which 
does not completely fulfill the desire of our heart, 
and which does not accord with our own haj)py 
and blessed experience. (Immense aijplause). 
But this he has done. He has not endeavoured 
to represent them as charming merely, by the aid 
of accomplishments, hoAvever elegant and grace- 
ful. He has not depicted those accomplishments 
as the essentials of their character, but has spok- 
en of them rather as always inspired by a love of 
domestic duty, by fidelity, by ])urity, by inno- 
cence, by charity, and by hope which makes them 
discharge, imder the most difficult circumstances, 
theii' duties, and which brings over their patli in 
this world some glimpses of the light of heaven. 
(Great applause.) I shall proceed no further in 
this course, which I again say I intended to avoid, 
and I shall conclude with a very few words. Mr. 
Dickens may be assured that there is felt for him 
all over Scotland, sentiments of kindness, affec- 
tion, admiration, and love (loud cheers) and I 
know, for certain, that the knowledge of these 
sentiments must make him happy; for I know, 
though he has been but a short time in our coun- 
try — and I trust he will be of tener here and for 
a longer period (cheers) — I know well that his 
heart turns with fondness to the lovely and en- 
dearing image of Scotland. I know well that the 
dream of his past enthusiasm, and of his imag- 
ination, has been the unequalled beauties and 
sublimities of our country ; but far beyond these, 
dear to him, must be our time-honoured institu- 

16 



DINNER TO CHARLES DICKENS 

tions — our hallowed habits — our holy customs, 
which have risen and grown and flourished round 
the domestic hearth — that sacred scene, where 
every virtue attains its full development. In 
this country there is still an unshaken, heartfelt, 
awe-struck sense of religion ; and when he looks 
at our kirks in their solitary situations, though 
now not solitary, for thank Heaven, they are 
numerous far, he will understand those feelings, 
deeper than genius can express, or imagination 
conceive, how deep seated in every liosom are 
those impressions, which, while the,y adorn and 
elevate the present life, give hopes and consola- 
tions to the life that is to come. With these f ew^ 
thoughts, inadequately expressed, for I came here 
unprepared, and scarcely able to speak with that 
energy which I ought to have done, I beg to pro- 
pose the health of Mr. Dickens. (Long and loud 
continued cheering.) 

Mr. Dickens was received with enthusiastic ap- 
plause. He said: 

If I felt your warm and generous welcome less, 
I should be better able to thank you. If I could 
have listened as you have listened to the glowing 
language of your distinguished Chairman, and if 
I could have heard as you heard the "thoughts 
that breathe and words that burn", which he has 
uttered, it would have gone hard, but I should 
have caught some portion of his enthusiasm, and 
kindled at his example. But every word which 
fell from his lips, and every demonstration of 
sympathy and approbation with which you re- 
ceived his eloquent expressions, renders me un- 
able to respond to his kindness, and leaves me at 

17 



DINNER TO CHARLES DICKENS 

last all heart and uo lips, yearning to respond as 
I would do to your cordial greeting — possessing, 
heaven knows, the will, and desiring only to find 
the way. 

The way to your good opinion, favour, and 
support, has been to me very pleasing — a path 
strewn with flowers and cheered with sunshine. 
I feel as if I stood amongst old friends, whom I 
had intimately known and highly valued. I feel 
as if the deaths of the fictitious creatures, in 
which you have been kind enough to express an 
interest, had endeared us to each other as real 
afflictions deepen friendships in actual life; I 
feel as if they had been real persons, whose for- 
tunes we had pursued together in inseparable 
connection, and that I had never known them 
apart from you. 

It is a difficult thing for a man to speak of him- 
self or of his works. But perhaps on this occa- 
sion I may, without impropriety, venture to say 
a word on the spirit in which mine were con- 
ceived. I felt an earnest and humble desire, and 
shall do till I die, to increase the stock of harm- 
less cheerfulness. I felt that the world was not 
utterly to be despired ; that it was worthy of liv- 
ing in for many reasons. I was anxious to find, 
as the Professor has said, if I could, in evil 
things, that soul of goodness which the Creator 
has put in them. I was anxious to show that 
virtue may be found in tlie bye- ways of the world, 
that it is not incompatible with povert}^ and even 
with rags, and to keep steadily through life the 
motto, expressed in the burning words of your 
Northern poet : 



18 



DINNER TO CHARLES DICKENS 



"The rank is but the guinea stamp, 
The man's the gowd for a' that." 

And in following this track, where could I have 
better assurance that I was right, or where could 
I have stronger assurance to cheer me on than in 
your kindness on this to me memorable night ? 

I am anxious and glad to have an opportunity 
of saying a word in reference to one incident in 
which I am happy to know you were interested, 
and still more happy to know, though it may 
sound paradoxical, that you were disappointed — 
I mean the death of the little heroine. When I 
first conceived the idea of conducting that simple 
story to its termination, I determined rigidly to 
adhere to it, and never to forsake the end I had 
in view. Not untried in the school of affliction, in 
the death of those we love, I thought what a good 
thing it w^ould be if in my little work of pleas- 
ant amusement, I could substitute a garland of 
fresh flowers for the sculptured horrors which 
disgrace the tomb. If I have put into my book 
anything which can fill the young mind with bet- 
ter thoughts of death, or soften the grief of older 
hearts ; if I have written one word which can af- 
ford pleasure or consolation to old or young in 
time of trial, I shall consider it as something- 
achieved — something which I shall be glad to 
look back upon in after life. Therefore, I kept 
to my purpose, notwithstanding that towards the 
conclusion of the story, I daily received letters of 
remonstrance, especially from the ladies. God 
bless them for their tender mercies! The Pro- 
fessor was quite right when he said I had not 
reached to an adequate delineation of their vir- 

19 



DINNER TO CHARLES DICKENS 

tues ; and I fear that I must go on blotting their 
characters in endeavouring to reach the ideal in 
my mind. These letters were, however, com- 
bined with others from the sterner sex, and some 
of them were not altogether free from personal 
invective. But, notwithstanding, I kept to my 
purpose, and I am happy to know that many of 
those who at first condemned me are now fore- 
most in their approbation. 

If I have made a mistake in detaining you with 
this little incident, I do not regret having done 
so; for your kindness has given me such a con- 
fidence in you, that the fault is yours and not 
mine. I come once more to thank you, and here 
I am in a difficult}^ again. The distinction you 
have conferred upon me is one which I never 
hoped for, and of which I never dared to 
dream. That it is one which I shall never for- 
get, and that while I live I shall be proud of 
its remembrance, you must well know. I believe 
I shall never hear the name of this capital of 
Scotland without a thrill of gratitude and pleas- 
ure. I shall love while I have life, her people, 
her hills, and her houses, and even the very stones 
of her streets. And if in the future works which 
may lie before me you should discern — God 
grant you may ! — a brighter spirit and a clearei* 
wit, I pray you to refer it back to this night, and 
point to that as a Scottish passage for evermore. 
I thank you again and again, with the energy of 
a thousand thanks in each one, and I drink to you 
with a heart as full as my glass, and far easier 
<^mptied, I do assure you. 

The Chairman then gave ''The Lord Provost 



20 




The Croupier 

Patrick Robertson Esq. 

(From a sl-etclt by Prof. Edward Forlics) 



DINNER TO CHARLES DICKENS 



and Magistrates of the City", which was ac- 
knowledged by the Lord Provost. 

The Croupier then rose and said : 

I beg leave to begin the few observations which 
I have now to lay before you, by repeating a re- 
mark of the Chairman, which must have struck 
every one as well founded — I mean as to the 
peculiar time which has been chosen to receive 
our distinguished guest at a public entertain- 
ment.. His visit to Scotland necessarily fixed 
the period. But even had there been no other 
reason, I presume to think the time has been hap- 
pily chosen because, in these days of turmoil, we 
('an all meet here not merely as in a truce, but on 
the common ground of generous s^Tupathy and 
admiration ; for our illustrious guest has struck 
a chord to which every generous bosom must re- 
spond. (Cheers.) Although the toast assigned 
to me is, I am sorry to say, a memory, it is not a 
memory of that kind which is likely to interfere 
with those feelings of generous enthusiasm and 
admiration which throb in the heart not only of 
every Scotsman, but of every man of sentiment 
and feeling. The time has now passed away 
when the memory of Scott should be received 
with saddened brow. It is now unnecessary to 
receive the annunciation of this toast with the 
stifled murmur or the muffled drum. It should 
rather be sounded by the loudest blasts of the 
trumpet of fame, reechoed by every rock of his 
native land. ( Great applause. ) We return after 
the lapse of time to the nomination of that great 
man, as the worshipper of nature revisits the 
scenes of his early association : 

23 



DINNER TO CHARLES DICKENS 

"Unwearied in that service, 

Rather say with warmer love, — 

Oh with far deeper zeal of holier love" (Cheers) 

of the merits of Scott, it would be presmnptuous 
and idle for an}^ man to talk at the present time. 
When he rose, although the soil had yielded 
some fruit in literature and science — although 
we could boast of Robertson, and Hmne and 
Smith — although we could point to one won- 
drous boy, who, in glory, and in joy, had followed 
his plough ujDon the mountain side (applause) — 
still the rugged soil was but ill cultivated. It 
was left for Scott, however, to make of our 
rugged rocks a blooming garden "in which im- 
mortal amaranths and palms abound". By the 
power of his early poetry, he drew aside the veil 
by which our misty mountains were concealed 
from the eye of the stranger. As a writer he 
roused the noblest sentiments of the chivalry of 
the olden time. As a delineator of Scottish char- 
acter, he has made all our virtues, all our follies, 
and perhaps our vices — but with a kindly hand — 
open and known to the world. If, however, it 
be idle to praise him as a writer, it is still more 
idle to speak of him as a private individual in his 
"own romantic town". That great and good 
man who has spread benevolence and kindness 
around him, has been lost, not only to the society 
of Edinburgh, but to the world. His spirit, how- 
ever, still lives amongst us — it hovers over us at 
this hour. With a dissection perhaps unexam- 
pled all his thoughts and actions have been laid 
bare to the world ; and has he not stood the test ? 
(Cheers.) Of all his qualities, perhaps his gen- 

24 



DINNER TO CHARLES DICKENS 

erosity of character, and his utter want of jeal- 
ousy of the works of others were the most re- 
markable. With what enthusiasm, and cordial- 
ity, would the author of Waverly have hailed the 
advent of the author of the Pickwick Papers. 
( Great applause. ) With what delight would the 
author of Kenilworth have greeted the author of 
Oliver Twist ; and with what keenness would he 
have looked with his piercing eye to see Hum- 
phrey's Clock about to strike again. (Hear, hear, 
hear.) To compare Mr. Dickens with Sir Wal- 
ter Scott would be to insult both your under- 
standings, and his own taste and feelings. But 
this at least I will say, that he is a faithful fol- 
lower in the same path. His writings are char- 
acterised throughout by the same fresh and cease- 
less admiration of external nature, the same kind 
and generous s>anpathy with all the noblest and 
best feelings of the human heart, the same ten- 
derness and truth and the same powerful and 
({uick discrimination of character. It would in- 
deed be delightful to see brought together some 
of their best creations. I should just like to see 
assembled in one association, Caleb Balderstone 
shaking hands with Sanmiy Weller (laughter) ; 
Davy Gellatly jumping with delight to meet his 
brother Barnaby Rudge; and to observe with 
what sympathy and kindly affection poor Jeanie 
Deans would have looked upon the unfortunate 
Nelly. (Loud and tremendous cheering.) Or to 
take another illustration in a comic vein, if he 
could have got a peep into Do-the-Boy's Hall can 
you have any doubt that Dominie Sampson would 
have exclaimed "Prodigious!" (Great laugh- 
ter.) This, it may be said, is a strange way of 

25 



DINNER TO CHARLES DICKENS 

proposing a memory ; but I am sure you will all 
believe it proceeds from no want of respect for 
the glorious name of Scott. Such a feeling can 
exist in the breast of no one, least of all in that 
of any individual whose pride it is to have taken 
by the hand the most illustrious man of his age 
and country. Let us imitate him at least in the 
spirit of genuine hospitality, in the admiration 
of genius from whatever quarter it comes, and in 
veneration for all that is good and great. I know 
not whether the toast should be drank in solemn 
silence or with acclamation, but I think it will not 
check the enthusiasm with which it has been re- 
ceived should some of my friends comply with 
my request of following it up by the heart-stir- 
ring glee of Roderick Vich Alpine Dhe. 

(The toast was then drank with applause; 
after which a party of gentlemen complied with 
Mr. Robertson's request.) 

Mr. Adam Black, who, on rising, was loudly 
cheered, said : 

Mr. Chairman, the subject which has been en- 
trusted to me is one of such boundless extent, and 
reaches so far back into the dark recesses of an- 
tiquity, that it might have deterred even a learned 
Doctor from making it the theme of a toast. I 
suppose, however, the Committee thought that a 
member of that craft which has been said to drink 
their wine out of the skulls of the learned, was 
bound on this occasion to attempt to acknowledge 
his obligations to his benefactors, by giving the 
"Universities of Great Britain and Ireland'' 
(Loud cheers.) But it is not particular classes 
only that have been benefited by the Universities 

26 



DINNER TO CHARLES DICKENS 

of our country. The benign influence of litera- 
ture and science and morality has flowed from 
them through all the ramifications of society, ad- 
vancing civilization, promoting the arts and ele- 
vating the character of the country. (Cheers.) 
The venerable Universities of Oxford and Cam- 
bridge can boast of having continued diffusing 
the light of science for 200 years before the earli- 
est of our Scottish Universities was founded. 
(Cheers.) To Oxford belongs the transcendant 
glory of having educated, and placed in the Chair 
of Divinity, the man who shook to its foundations 
the spiritual despotism which then enthralled 
Europe, and who first opened the fountains of 
Divine truth to his countrymen by translating 
the scriptures into the mother tongue — the in- 
trepid Wickliff e — in defence of what he con- 
sidered truth, braved that power before which 
the proudest of our kings quailed. (Loud 
cheers.) The English Universities are entitled 
to the distinction of more magnificent colleges, 
more wealthy endo\^Tnents, and a greater host of 
learned professors and alumni ; but I hope I shall 
be excused if, either from ignorance or national 
partiality, I give the preference to the more re- 
cent and less richly endowed Universities of Scot- 
land, especially to tliat which is the pride of our 
own City, which numbers among its Professors 
our distinguished Chairman (loud cheering) and 
other names illustrious not only in Britain, but 
in the world of literature, and the chairs of which 
have been occupied by a succession of great men, 
who have raised its reputation to the highest 
pitch, to be transmitted, Ave trust, with undimin- 
ished lustre to future ages. (Cheering.) Nature 

27 



DINNER TO CHARLES DICKENS 

has denied to Scotland a genial climate and a 
fruitful soil, but she has been richly compensated 
by the educational advantages of her schools and 
Universities, which have raised the character and 
intelligence of her inhabitants so as to fit them 
for stations of the highest responsibility, in every 
department, and they are found in every quarter 
of the globe promoting their own respectability, 
and benefiting the human race by the practical 
effects of the science and literature derived from 
our educational institutions. (Loud cheering.) 
It is the glory of the Scottish Universities, that 
they are open to all; that none are excluded by 
sectarian tests — that the terms of admission are 
so easy as to render them accessible to the humble 
ranks — that the sons of the small farmer and 
the mechanic are seen to vie with the sons of 
wealthy landlord and the peer for University dis- 
tinctions (cheers), that the prejudice of caste — 
of gownsmen and townsmen — is almost un- 
known — that the students and the other sections 
of the population are so blended together as not 
only to live on friendly terms, but by reciprocat- 
ing their information, so that the benefits of the 
University are spread among the other members 
of the community. (Renewed cheers.) We find 
Robison, when a student at the University of 
Glasgow, consulting with Watt the mechanic — 
each assisting the other in bringing to maturity 
the wondrous inventions which are now gaining 
such incalculable power over matter, and pro- 
moting to such an astonishing extent the commer- 
cial pursuits of the world — an extent which is 
3^et unknown (protracted cheers), but I fear that 
if I have the honour of speaking in the presence 

28 



DINNER TO CHARLES DICKENS 

of any natives of the Emerald Isle, that they may 
complain that I have not done justice to Ireland. 
(Hear, hear!) I beg, however, to assure you. 
Sir, that if I am to blame on this head, it is not 
intentional, but solely because I cannot do her 
that justice which she deserves (cheers) if she 
possesses but one University, and that only ac- 
quired about four centuries after the establish- 
ment of the great English colleges, yet her his- 
torians claim for her the honour of having been 
the University of Europe during the early ages 
of Christianity, and the claims are not unfound- 
ed; for the number of learned and holy men 
whom she furnished to the world at that time, 
earned for her the honourable name of the Isle 
of Saints (cheers) and as her population has 
greatly increased, we are warranted in calculat- 
ing that her philosophers and saints, though oc- 
casionally a little uproarious, have multiplied at 
least in the same proportion. (Great laughter 
and cheers.) As I have trespassed so long upon 
your time, I must draw to a close by giving, not 
the Rose, the Thistle, and the Shamrock, but the 
Universities of Great Britain and Ireland. 
(The toast was drunk with all the honours.) 
Professor Alison returned thanks for the 
honour conferred on the Universities of Great 
Britain and Ireland. (Cheers.) He was sure 
they all knew that their distinguished guest was 
an adept in the science of human nature, which 
was akin to moral philosophy. He possessed one 
quality which medical men might envy — the 
power of solacing and soothing the tedious hours 

29 



DINNER TO CHARLES DICKENS 

of sickness and disease. (Loud cheers.) He was 
sure that one and all of them were happy in hav- 
ing the opportunity of paying homage to the 
genius of their distinguished guest, and of ex- 
pressing their gratitude to him for the great 
amount of innocent amusement which he had con- 
ferred upon many thousands, he might say many 
millions, of his countrymen. (Great cheering.) 
Mr. Charles Neaves, advocate, said, they were 
met there this night to do honour to one great 
master in one great department of imaginative 
delineation — let them not then forget to do jus- 
tice at the same time to the sister art of poetry. 
(Cheers.) He asked the meeting to give their 
tribute of applause to the names of Wordsworth, 
Campbell, and Moore. (Loud cheers.) After 
alluding to the times of Shakspeare, Spenser, 
Waller, Cowell, Comper, and Burns, the learned 
gentleman said the soil of our country in the 
present days was not less productive of poetical 
genius than in past times, as a proof of which he 
need only mention the names of Wordsworth, 
Southey, Cowper, Byron, Scott, Rogers, Moore, 
Campbell, Wilson (loud and prolonged cheers) 
and Moir — a longer list than any which had ever 
concentrated their ra,ys in one blaze of beauty. 
(Renewed cheers.) Mr. Neaves concluded an 
eloquent speech, by asking the company to drink 
to the names of Wordsworth, Campbell and 
Moore, and the long list of contemporaries of 

30 



DINNER TO CHARLES DICKENS 

which their country could boast. (The toast was 
drunk with the greatest enthusiasm.) 

Mr. J. T. Gordon, in proposing the memory of 
Burns, said he had no feeling of sorrow — he had 
no words of melancholy preface to utter, in ask- 
ing a cup of tributary respect to Robert Burns. 
On the contrary, it was with a pride, which, 
though national, he yet knew to be so just and 
true, that he exalted in it, and with an enthusiasm 
which perhaps only a Scotsman could under- 
stand; although none knowing the kindness and 
gentleness and at the same time the manliness of 
Burns, would appreciate that enthusiasm better 
than their distinguished guest. Surely it needed 
nothing to recommend the memory of him, whose 
memory was as green at that moment as the 
leaves were then on his own banks of Doon, and 
which flowed as freely through the width and 
length of the land as the waters of his beloved 
Nith. He was a man that would have been of 
mark in any way. Born of that stalwart race 
our country's honour — inured to their hard- 
ships, accustomed to their toils, it might have so 
pleased Heaven, that he should have passed his 
life the admiration of his village, for 

''The might that slumbered in a peasant's arm." 

But it was otherwise decreed, and when the air of 
poetry moved the latent strings in his heart, beau- 



31 



DINNER TO CHAELES DICKENS 

tifully and swellingly came over a whole people 
the strains that showed 

'^The might that shmibered in a peasant's soul." 

The fabled horse of old struck out with its hoof 
a fountain from which the Muses drunk; but 
when this peasant's plough broke the clod, the 
people of Scotland soon after heard the lark rise 
to the sky, and saw the daisy droop its withered 
head as they had never done before, because they 
had quaffed an intoxicating cup from a well 
which they felt had given glory to the grass and 
splendor to the flower. (Applause.) Were they 
not justified in the adoration almost approaching 
to idolatry with which the Avhole people of Scot- 
land regarded the memory of Burns ? And idol- 
atry if it were, it was not the worship of false 
fire. (Cheers.) It were needless, it were idle to 
enter upon the character of Burns, on his merits 
or his failings — for failings he had, since there 
is no clay so purified in the furnace of earthly 
trial as to be spotless. But surely if ever facility 
and felicity were combined, it was in him. Not 
easier does the wind shake the down from the 
thistle than did the stirring of genius shake off 
from his soul those in many senses numerous 
strains embodying the most exquisite fancy's ten- 
derest sentiments, and the sublimest aspirations. 
(Much applause.) But one word more. It was 
certainly no small praise, that even now as the 

32 










1^ 



? 



Charles Dickens — 1841 

[From drawing by Count D'Orsay] 



DINNER TO CHARLES DICKENS 

world passed, when mental cultivation was every- 
where advancing, and in the race of knowledge 
men were pressing on each other's heels, amid the 
various arts, and accomplishments, and manifold 
acquirements of our present time, there wasn 't a 
man but came back gently and sweetly to the nat- 
ural song sung by our native bard. The Learned 
Gentleman sat down amidst enthusiastic cheer- 
ing. 

Mr. Dickens said: 

I have the honour to be entrusted with a toast, 
the very mention of which will recommend itself 
to you, I know, as one possessing no ordinary 
claims to your s}Tnpathy and approbation, and 
the proposing of which is as congenial to my 
wishes and feelings as its acceptance must be to 
yours. It is the health of our Chairman, and 
coupled with his name I have to propose the liter- 
ature of Scotland — a literature which he has 
done much to render famous through the world, 
and of which he has been for many years — as I 
hope and l^elieve he will be for many more — a 
most brilliant and distinguished ornament. Who 
can revert to the literature of the land of Scott 
and of Burns without having directly in his mind, 
as inseparable from the subject and foremost in 
the picture, that old man of might, with his lion 
heart and sceptred crutch — Christopher North. 
I am glad to remember the time when I believed 
him to be a real, actual, veritable old gentleman, 
that might be seen any day hobbling along the 
High Street with the most brilliant e3^e — but 
that is no fiction — and the greyest hair in all the 

35 



DINNER TO CHARLES DICKENS 

world — who wrote not because he cared to write, 
not because he cared for the wonder and admira- 
tion of his fello\^^nen, but who wrote because he 
could not help it, because there was always 
springing up in his mind a clear and sparkling- 
stream of poetry which must have vent, and like 
the glittering fountain in the fairy tale, draw 
what you might, w'as ever at the full and never 
languished even b}^ a single drop or bubble. I 
had so figured him in m^^ mind, and w^hen I saw^ 
the Professor two days ago, striding along the 
Parliament House, I was disposed to take it as a 
personal offence. I w^as vexed to see him look so 
hearty. I drooped to see twenty Christophers in 
one. I began to think that Scottish life was all 
light and no shadows, and I began to doubt that 
beautiful book to w^hich I have turned again and 
again, always to find new beauties and fresh 
sources of interest. 

Professor Wilson said, this was not the first 
time that he had had the honour of presiding at 
such a meeting as this, and though sadly deficient 
in that energy and creative genius which he was 
said to possess, yet he would yield to no man in 
that deep affection for his native land which chai'- 
acterised its inhabitants; and in allowing that, 
their feelings occasionalh- kindled a sparkling of 
something like genius in his own breast and which 
attracted some notice to the hmnble efforts he had 
made. (Cheers.) In his (Professor Wilson's) 
own person he had never been indifferent to the 
fame and reputation of others — sometunes he 



36 



DINNER TO CHARLES DICKENS 

had brought forth neglected merit (cheers) and 
with respect to the literature of Scotland, he 
might be permitted to sa}^ that in some depart- 
ments it was distinguished just at this moment by 
some still living, and in some only lately. They 
have made a most distinguished figure, and given 
delineations of the national character that would 
last forever. The names of Hamilton, of Grant, 
and of Brunton (he continued) are not likely to 
be forgotten. They have indeed departed from 
us, but their memory is fresh and green ; and it 
may be said of them, not one line they ever wrote 
could they have wished to blot. They had the 
true genius of their country; they were true to 
the earnestness and piety of the religion which 
characterised their native land; and they drew 
many beautiful pictures that will last forever. 
There are two distinguished female writers 
amongst us yet — there are others, but allow me 
to mention the names of Ferrier and Johnstone. 
(Cheers.) The Learned Gentleman then re- 
ferred to the progress of the fine arts, which, he 
said, were all conceived and executed in the same 
spirit of poetry and fiction. He would close in a 
few words, by mentioning the name of his dis- 
tinguished and excellent friend, Mr. William 
Allan. They all knew how adventurous his 
3^outh was, which led him far from his native 
country ; and they all knew that, impelled by his 
adventurous spirit and genius, he studied the 

37 



DINNER TO CHARLES DICKENS 

manners, customs, and habits of those who lived 
in other climes, and that he had produced on the 
canvas these pictures of the customs and habits 
of those countries and thus made them visible to 
all who had an opportunity of beholding them. 
He likewise devoted his genius to themes con- 
nected with his ow^n country. The learned Pro- 
fessor concluded by proposing the health of ' ' Mr. 
Allan and the Fine Arts". 

Mr. Allan returned his humble and sincere 
thanks for the honour they had done him, and ex- 
pressed his delight that there were many dis- 
tinguished in the arts in Scotland who would do 
honour to any country. He ventured to think 
that, ere long, the fine arts would reach the em- 
inence attained by literary science. 

Mr. Patrick Robertson was afraid that he 
would be considered a little intrusive on the order 
of the toasts of the evening ; but he hoped that the 
communication he had to make, and which had 
just been put into his hands, would be an apology 
for this apparent intrusion. Such was the rapid- 
ity of the periodical press, that he found that a 
newspaper called the Edinburgh Evening Cour- 
ant — so called because it was published at six 
o'clock in the morning, and which w^as expected 
to come out tomorrow morning, had already pub- 
lished an account of the business of the evening's 
proceedings; and not only an account of what 
had actually taken place, but had reduced that 

38 



DINNER TO CHARLES DICKENS 

account into most admirable poetry. He had no 
doubt that it would interest the meetings; and 
although he was not a shareholder in the said 
newspaper, he would take the liberty of reading 
the prefatory matters. The Learned Gentleman 
then proceeded to read a paper : 

A splendid meeting took place last night — 
Professor Wilson in the chair. (Laughter.) A 
stout gentleman acted as croupier. (Renewed 
laughter.) We wish to present our readers first 
with a serious description of the more tragic part 
of the proceeding; and secondly, with some of 
those lighter flights of fancy by which the evening 
was distinguished. (Continued laughter.) 

The Learned Gentleman then proceeded to 
read a number of verses in poetry, referring to 
the various characters in Mr. Dickens' works. 
Much humour and wit were displayed in the com- 
position, and the reading of them excited great 
laughter and cheering. 

Mr. Ludovic Colquhoun, advocate, said : 

The high honour has been assigned to me of 
proposing as a toast the health of a most learned 
and accomplished person, whose unavoidable ab- 
sence from this meeting, deeply regretted b}^ us 
all, has been so feelingly alluded to by his friend, 
oud distinguished guest. I mean Lord Jeffrey. 
(Loud cheers.) Conscious as I am of my inabil- 
ity to do justice to that toast, I should have at 
once declined the duty, otherwise most gratifying, 
of proposing it, was I not conscious, at the same 
time, that the toast is indeed one which requires 

39 



DINNER TO CHARLES DICKENS 



no preface, and that eulogy and eloquence — elo- 
quence even such as that which has delighted us 
tonight — could add nothing to the feelings of 
respect and admiration with which all who hear 
me must regard its eminent subject. AVith such 
feelings, then, towards Lord Jeffrey, surely we 
should rejoice that we have been favoured with 
an opportunity so fitting as that which the pres- 
ent occasion affords, of testif jdng, with the pride 
and aff'ection becoming his fellow citizens, that 
we appreciate as we ought a man wdiose genius 
and attaimnents have long since won for him a 
memorable name, not merel}' among ourselves, 
or in this country, but in every land where the 
language and literature of Britain are known. 
(Cheers.) Such a name is not lightly or easily 
won ; it can neither be acquired nor retained with- 
out correspondent merit, for the very condition 
of fame is high and authentic desert. (Ap- 
plause.) It is not for me — it would be presump- 
tion, and, in an assembly like this, altogether 
superfluous to discuss, or even to indicate the 
grounds of Lord Jeffrey's well-earned celebrity. 
But amidst the many which might be indicated — 
amidst the many indisputable claims he possesses 
on our veneration and gratitude — I trust I may 
be permitted to allude very briefl^v to one — the 
unparalleled and inestimable services he has ren- 
dered to the periodical literature of our country. 
(Cheers.) He found it in a state of helpless, and 
seemingly hopeless decrepitude. He reanimat- 
ed it, or rather, to speak more correctly, he called 
into existence a species of literature absolutely 
new, with which that displaced by it had nothing 
in common but the name. He infused into this 

40 



DINNER TO CHARLES DICKENS 

new creation, an energy and a fire, and invested 
it with a dignity and a grace, of which, till then, 
periodical literature had scarcely afforded an in- 
dication, and with which, indeed, judging from 
the past, it might have been supposed irreconcil- 
able. He not merely demonstrated that the peri- 
odical press was capable of being made the most 
efficient of engines for disseminating instruction 
and information on every branch of human 
knowledge, but he actually made it such ; and he 
relaxed not in his efforts till he saw that press 
become, as thanks to him, it has now long been, 
the chosen medium through which the best and 
ripest intellects hold communion with their kind. 
(Applause.) If we would inquire into the means 
by which he affected a revolution, so mighty in its 
character, so salutary in its results, we need but 
call to recollection the almost endless series of 
original and exquisite essays, which, in swift and 
and uninterrupted succession, emanated from 
that most fertile of minds — essays, embracing 
in their range every department of literature and 
art, and nearly every department of science — 
infinitely varied, therefore, in their subjects, but 
each and all bearing the imequivocal impress of 
a master-head, each and all characterised by a 
masculine vigour of argument, and universality 
of knowledge, a force and felicity of illustration, 
a prodigality of wit, a beauty and dazzling bril- 
liancy of style, rarely seen in such perfection 
even singly, probably never before found so hap- 
pily combined; we need, I repeat, but look to 
these, and we can be little at a loss to divine the 
means by which the triumph was effected, and 
surely as little disposed to question the character 

41 



DINNEE TO CHARLES DICKENS 

of Lord Jeffrey's fame. (Cheers.) But, if any- 
thing could enhance the splendour of that tri- 
umph, if anything were still wanting to con- 
sumate the fame of him who achieved it — surely 
it would be found in the fact that these precious 
contributions to the literary glory of our country 
were made, not by a recluse student, lapped in 
lettered case, but by one, who, while he made 
them, was innnersed, daily and hourly, in the toils 
of a profession certainly sufficiently toilsome, 
among the members of which, while he stood sec- 
ond to none in learning, he stood paramount in 
eloquence and every forensic accomplishment. 
(The toast was then drank amidst loud applause.) 

Mr. Dickens said : 

Less fortunate than the two gentlemen who 
have preceded me, it is confided to me to mention 
a name which cannot be pronounced without sor- 
row, a name in which Scotland had a great tri- 
umph, and which England delighted to honour. 
One of the gifted of the earth has passed away, 
as it were yesterday ; one who was devoted to his 
art, and his art was nature — I mean David 
Wilkie. He was one who made the cottage 
hearth a graceful thing — of whom it might truly 
be said that he found "books in the running 
brooks", and who has left in all he did some 
breathing of the air which stirs the heather. But 
however desirous to enlarge on his genius as an 
artist, I would rather speak of him now as a 
friend who has gone from amongst us. There is 
his deserted studio — the empty easel lying idly 
by — the imfinished picture with its face turned 
to the wall, and there is that bereaved sister, who 

42 



DINNER TO CHARLES DICKENS 



loved him with an al^ection which death cannot 
quench. He has left a name in fame clear as the 
bright sky; He has filled our minds with mem- 
ories pure as the blue waves which roll over him. 
Let us hope that she who more than all others 
mourns his loss, may leam to reflect that he died 
in the fulness of his fame, before age or sickness 
had dimmed his powers — and that she may yet 
associate with feelings as calm and pleasant as we 
do now the memory of Wilkie. 

Mr. Dickens was much affected during the de- 
livery of this speech, particularly at those pas- 
sages more especially referring to Sir David Wil- 
kie 's death. The toast was drank in solemn 
silence. 

The Hon. Mr. Primrose proposed a toast which 
he was sure would meet with all their approba- 
tion — the health of Mr. Patrick Robertson. 
(Cheers.) Whether they regarded him as the 
first in a most learned profession — as a most 
distinguished orator in this great city — as one 
of the best and earnest promoters of conviviality 
(laughter), or as the "stout gentleman acting as 
croupier" (laughter), he was quite sure that if 
they remembered him in one or all of these re- 
spects, the biunper he was to propose would be 
prodigious. (Laughter.) The Honourable Gen- 
tleman proposed their ''great croupier, Mr. Rob- 
ertson". (Cheers.) 

Mr. Robertson returned thanks and said that 
he felt great pleasure in being one of those who 

43 



DINNER TO CHARLES DICKENS 

were instrumental in originating and forwarding 
the business of the evening. What had already 
passed was a complete justification of the steps 
they had taken, and he would only say that he was 
gratified for the cordiality and kindly feelings 
sho^^^l to him by his fellow-citizens, and that his 
exertions in any capacity were entirely at their 
disposal. (Cheers.) 

Mr. Fletcher said that although he would make 
the shortest speech of the evening, yet he was sure 
it would meet with the most cordial and enthusi- 
astic reception. It had been said that the genius 
of Mr. Dickens Avas English, but he demurred to 
that, and would say that it was half English and 
half Scotch, as he was undoubtedly connected 
with a Scottish lady. He then proposed the 
health of Mrs. Dickens, which was drank amidst 
great applause. 

Mr. Dickens returned thanks, and said that his 
wife was a Scotchwoman, and was born in this 
city. 

Mr. P. Robertson proposed "Mr. Murray and 
the Drama". 

Mr. Murray : 

Mr. Chairman and Gentlemen, I need not say 
how deeply I feel the honour you have conferred 
upon me; and I will freely confess that, seeing 
my name in the list of toasts, I had endeavoured 
to concoct, what you, with your usual kindness 
towards me, might have deemed a very tolerable 
speech (laughter), but really, gentlemen, consid- 

44 



DINNER TO CHARLES DICKENS 



ering the lateness of the hour, and the great talent 
which has pre(3edecl me, it would be an absurdity, 
nay, almost an impertinence for me to intrude 
upon your patience by — (here Mr. Murray was 
met by loud cries of No, No, Go on, accompanied 
with great applause.) Well, gentlemen, perhaps 
it will be better for the general effect, that I 
should go on. My friend, Allan, will tell you 
how valuable shade is in a picture, perhaps it may 
prove equally so at a public dinner, and after the 
l)rilliant display you have heard this evening, a 
little calm mediocrity, or even positive failure, 
may be an agreeable relief. (Laughter and great 
applause.) I remember when the elite of Lon- 
don gave their dinner to John Kemble, upon his 
retirement from the stage, the stewards waited 
on the late Lord Holland, to request that he would 
take the chair on that occasion, His Lordship said 
that nothing would give him more pleasure, but 
added, ''Gentlemen, I fear you have made a bad 
choice ; in the House of Lords I can worry a Min- 
ister, or badger a Bishop with any man, but I am 
a wretched speaker at a public dinner". So, 
jumping from great to small, place me upon my 
own boards, and I think I can wind up a season, 
pacify a pit, nay, coax a gallery (loud laughter), 
aye, even when crowded with the stormy sixpence 
of a second price (great laughter and applause) 
with most men of my trade ; but you must be well 
aware, that flourishing in the set phrases of a 
theatre, where, as children say, you have all the 
talk to yourself, is widely different from follow- 
ing in the wake of such eloquence as you have 
listened to to-night, and, I fear, my thanks will 
fall miserably short of what they ought to be. 

45 



DINNER TO CHARLES DICKENS 

(Cries of No. and loud applause.) I am well 
aware that much of what Mr. Robertson has been 
pleased to say of me, has been coloured by those 
feelings of private regard with which he honours 
me; and I am equally aware, that the cordiality 
with which you have responded to his compli- 
ments, has sprung more from your kindness to 
an old servant, than to any merit that old servant 
possesses. (Renewed cries of No, and great ap- 
plause.) Well, gentlemen, merit or no merit, I 
am truly grateful for the honour you have done 
me, and thank you for it from the very bottom 
of my heart. (Long and continued cheers.) 
With regard to the drama, I wish the lady could 
embody herself and express her obligations in 
propria persona (laughter) for really her moral 
character is looked upon with so much suspicion, 
by one half of the world, and she is deemed so 
unfashionable a personage by a large proportion 
of the other, that it is scarcely creditable for a 
staid sober man, and the father of a family like 
myself (laughter) to have anything to do with 
the unfortunate women. (Continued laughter.) 
Still something may be said for her. (Applause.) 
If with some few, yet bright exceptions, her au- 
thors and actors have somewhat fallen below the 
standard of former days, pardon me when I say 
that a deficiency of vegetation is not always the 
fault of the soil, it sometimes proceeds from want 
of sun. (Loud cries of hear, and applause.) The 
truth is, the drama has been somewhat "left and 
abandoned of her velvet friends", the higher 
classes; and of course, I think them wrong. 
Their presence — especially the ladies — acted as 
a sort of moral police, before which no manager 

46 



DINNER TO CHARLES DICKENS 

or performer dared court the applause of the mil- 
lion b_y one act or word repugnant to right feel- 
ing or good taste. (Continued applause.) The- 
atres are powerful engines; and you may raise 
or degrade them, but you cannot crush them. Sir 
Walter Scott has told us that ''a love of theatrical 
amusement is inherent in human nature" and I 
am certain that we might as well attempt to sweep 
the name of Shakspeare from the page of our 
national literature, as banish the art he has im- 
mortalized. (Loud cheering.) Then let us hope 
that the upper ranks will rally round the drama, 
and prevent her from being made a positive evil, 
in vitiating the tastes of her more humble pat- 
rons. (Continued applause.) I own her pros- 
pects, in this respect, are mending (applause) 
and I augur most favourably from the return of 
Mr. McCready to theatrical management. (Ap- 
plause.) His great taste and talent as an actor, 
and what is of more consequence, his moral worth 
as a man, must benefit the cause. (Loud ap- 
plause.) He is also the friend of our distin- 
guished guest, and may, possibly, add to the 
names of Knowles, of Talf ourd, and of Bulwer — 
one whose pen would do right good service to the 
stage — a pen which has proved its mastery over 
all the passions of the human heart in every rank 
of life. (Applause.) I need not mention names 
(loud api^lause) — range from the dark malig- 
nity of a Ralph Nickleby, to the noble generosity 
of the Brothers Cheeryble. (Applause.) Look 
at Newman Noggs (here the remembrance of Mr. 
Murray's performance of that character caused 
long and tremendous cheering), observe the 
wreck of a kindly heart peering through the dirt 

47 



DINNER TO CHARLES DICKENS 

dissipation has thrown around, hun (applause) 
and then contrast his bloated features with the 
pallid cheek of the infant withering under the 
lash of that mercenary pedagogue who my friend 
Mr. Robertson so admirably contrasted with the 
honest-hearted Dominee. In short, gentlemen, 
range from one end of his writings to the other, 
and tell me if such delineations w^ould not create 
actors. (Great applause.) We should again 
hold the mirror up to nature — again breathe the 
fresh air of truth, instead of being stifled amidst 
the red and blue fires of melodramatic absurdity. 
(Great and long continued applause.) Gentle- 
men, I truly appreciate the compliment you have 
paid me by listening so patiently at such an hour 
and conclude with laying before you my best and 
most grateful acknowledgments. (Great ap- 
plause.) 

Captain Harrington proposed the health of 
''Mr. Fletcher and the other stewards", after 
which the meeting separated about twelve o 'clock. 



48 



[From the Edinburgh Evening Courant, Saturday, June 26, 1841] 



DINNER TO MR. DICKENS 

This entertainment took place last night, in the 
Waterloo Rooms, and it was a brilliant and mer- 
ited testimony to talents purely literary, which 
was well worthy of the metropolis of Scotland, 
and in the present ferment of politics, and of 
conflicting passions, there is something peculiarly 
pleasing in a meeting of this nature, where there 
is not a shade of hostle feeling; and where the 
common sympathies of cultivated minds unite in 
one pure and according tribute of admiration to 
the rare endowments of genius. It agrees well 
with the improving spirit of the present day, 
marking as it does the diffusion of intelligence 
and of refined taste, which distinguishes modern 
manners above those of all former times. 

As a popular writer, Mr. Dickens certainly 
ranks as the most eminent person of his day. 
His works form an era in our literary history. 
As a describer of manners he is unrivalled; he 
displays, as his fancy ranges over the many col- 
oured scenes of life, an originality and vigour 
that places him on a level with the greatest mas- 
ters. His knowledge of life is not more pro- 
found and extensive than it is minute and accu- 
rate. His delineations possess a fidelity and 
force that mark their originality. His humour 

49 



DINNER TO CHARLES DICKENS 

is extremely delicate, and his satire lively and 
cutting, and his subjects are drawn from the 
whole system of life. His curious and inquiring 
eye scans its whole business, and its various and 
ever-shifting scenes, which he exhibits, in their 
most interesting aspects, with a reality that is 
truh^ unpressive ; and characters the most absurd 
and unpromising yet acquire an interest, and are 
rendered amusing by the spirit and the exquisite 
vein of satire which runs through his delinea- 
tions. His subjects are almost all drawn from 
ordinary life. They are of the homliest kind. 
They derive no aid from the glare of high-sound- 
ing titles, nor from extraordinary and out-of-the- 
way incidents ; but are indebted for their interest 
to the vivid colours in which they are presented. 
It is the vanities, the follies, the passions of man- 
kind, that furnish his materials; and wherever 
men are met together, wherever these conflicting 
elements are found, whether in palaces, in cot- 
tages, or in the dirty lanes of London, he is at no 
loss for subjects. A summer morning in the 
country, in all the freshness and beauty of nature, 
or a dull, rainy day in some wretched alley of the 
(crowded metropolis, equally display his acute ob- 
servation ; his intuitiA^e perception of the minute 
(drcumstances that give character to the scene, 
and the power and skill with which the whole are 
grouped into a striking and lively sketch. He 
describes what Hogarth paints, and with the same 

50 



DINNER TO CHARLES DICKENS 

truth and spirit as that great master of the ludi- 
crous, though he works with different instru- 
ments. 

There are other scenes, however, of deep and 
tragic interest in which his mastery over the pas- 
sions is more fully displayed and in which he 
touches the heart, and often harrows up the feel- 
ings by the intense sympathy which he excites. 
Along with this rare taste for truth and nature, 
need we be surprised if he sometimes deviates in- 
to caricature — if he errs from too great an anxi- 
ety for effect, and misses his object by occasional 
exaggeration ? 

Last night presented him in a new character — 
that of a public speaker, and it does not follow 
that the most successful writer will equally shine 
in speaking offhand to a large audience. Addi- 
son, the most finished writer of the English 
tongue that ever appeared, could not address a 
popular assembly ; and it is well known that Gib- 
bon, distinguished as he was by philosophy, learn- 
ing and eloquence, could never muster courage to 
take his part in the stormy scenes of popular de- 
bate ; while, on the other hand. Fox, distinguished 
by powers of ready and fervid eloquence, did not 
excel in writing. His style was cold, elaborate, 
and stiff*. Dickens seems to unite the two facul- 
ties of writing and speaking. He does not come 
with got-by-heart speeches, and such prepared 
stuff ; but he boldly sets himself afloat on the cur- 

51 



DINNER TO CHARLES DICKENS 

rent of his own thoughts. There is nothing elab- 
orate in his style of speaking. It is simple and 
inartificial and seems to be suggested by circum- 
stances as they arise, having entirely a conversa- 
tional tone — yet lively and pointed, and always 
interesting ; and resembling in this his prototype. 
Sir Walter Scott, who possessed, with all his 
other great gifts, a singular power of popular 
eloquence — careless and unostentatious, as he 
always was, with a certain familiarity, and even 
homeliness of manner, which was singularly con- 
trasted with the wit, the depth of feeling, and the 
readiness of happy expression by which he al- 
ways fixed the deep attention of his audience. 



52 




Waterloo Rooms 
Dinner took place in large room on ground floor 



DICKENS'S OWN ACCOUNT OF THE 
DINNER 

As Dickens considered the account of the din- 
ner in the Scotsman and Courant dismal, it is 
interesting to read his own account, which he 
gave his friend Forster, written the morning 
after it occurred : 

The great event is over ; and being gone, I am 
a man again. It was the most brilliant affair 
you can conceive ; the completest success possible, 
from first to last. The room was crammed, and 
more than seventy applicants for tickets were of 
necessity refused yesterday. Wilson was ill, but 
plucked up like a lion and spoke famously. I 
send you a paper herewith, but the report is dis- 
mal in the extreme. They say there will be a 
better one — I don't know where or when. 
Should there be, I will send it to you. I tJmik 
(ahem !) that I spoke rather well. It was an ex- 
cellent room, and both the subjects (Wilson and 
Scottish Literature, and the Memory of Wilkie) 
were good to go upon. There were nearly two 
hundred ladies present. The place is so con- 
trived that the cross table is raised enormously; 
much above the heads of people sitting below; 
and the effect on first coming in (on me, I mean) 
was rather tremendous. I was quite self-pos- 
sessed, however, and, notwithstanding the en- 
thoosemoosy, which was very startling, as cool as 
a cucumber. I wish to God you had been there, 

55 



DINNER TO CHARLES DICKENS 



as it is impossible for the "distinguislied guest" 
to describe the scene. It beat all natur'. . . 

******** 

The men who spoke at the dinner were all the 
most rising men here, and chiefly at the Bar. 
They were all, alternately, whigs and tories ; with 
some few radicals, such as Gordon, who gave the 
memory of Burns. He is Wilson's son-in-law 
and the lord advocate's nephew — a very mas- 
terly speaker indeed, who ought to become a dis- 
tinguished man. Neaves, who gave the other 
poets, a little too lawyer-like for my taste, is a 
great gun in the courts. Mr. Prunrose is Lord 
Rosebery's son. Adam Black, the publisher as 
you know, Dr. Alison, a very popular friend of 
the poor. Robertson you know. Allan you 
know. Colquhoun is an advocate. All these 
men were selected for the toasts as being crack 
speakers, known men, and opposed to each other 
very strongly in politics. For this reason, the 
professors and so forth who sat upon the plat- 
form about me made no speeches and had none 
assigned them. I felt it was very remarkable to 
see such a number of grey-headed men gathered 
about my brown flowing locks, and it struck most 
of those who were present, very forcibly. The 
judges, solicitor-general. Lord-advocate, and so 
forth, were all here to call, the day after our ar- 
rival. The judges never go to public dinners 
in Scotland. Lord Meadowbank alone broke 
through the custom, and none of his successors 
have imitated him. It will give you a good no- 
tion of party to hear that the solicitor-general 
and lord-advocate refused to go, though they had 



56 



DINNER TO CHARLES DICKENS 

previously engaged, unless the croupier or the 
chairman were a whig. Both (Wilson and Rob- 
ertson) were tories, simply because, Jeffrey ex- 
cepted, no whig could be found who was adapted 
to the office. The solicitor laid strict injunctions 
on Napier not to go if a whig were not in office. 
No whig was, and he stayed away. I think this 
is good ? — bearing in mind that all the old whigs 
of Edinburgh were cracking their throats in the 
room. They give out that they were ill, and the 
lord-advocate did actually lie in bed all the after- 
noon; but this is the real truth, and one of the 
judges told it me with great glee. It seems they 
couldn't quite trust Wilson or Robertson, as they 
thought; and feared some tory demonstration. 
Nothing of the kind took place ; and ever since, 
these men have been the loudest in their praises 
of the whole affair. 



57 



Of this book sixty -three copies were printed for William Glyde 
Wilkins, in the month of Novem.ber, 1915 

Number 



iiHiS,?,?^ °'' CONGRESS 



014 490 309 2 




■■MHMMMNMMMMHM 



